by Mars Dorian
And he thought drowning in debt was torment.
He wanted to crawl back into cryo and cuddle with the darkness again.
“Are you listening to me?” the master said.
“Yes sir, I was just pondering my future.”
“I hope you do.”
The master rested his mighty hand on RX’s shoulder. Way too much grip for a veteran his age.
“Son, I remember your sparkling eyes way back. I can even recall the first time I saw you prancing through the decks. The way you walked, the way you talked, it had ‘ace pilot’ written all over it. I told myself—this guy was going to fly places. But that was a long time ago.”
“I know, sir. I admit I let myself go, but I had a lot of things on my mind.”
“Things on your mind, you say?”
“That’s no excuse, sir.”
The master nodded.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear from you.”
He lowered his voice.
“I’m not going to lie—a lot of higher-ups want you gone since Alterra, but I spoke up for you, because I believe in you. Now prepare and deliver the performance we’ve come to expect from you. Make Space Daddy proud.”
He raised his mug to eye level. RX saluted and walked out the chamber with slumped shoulders. He found D12 with his back leaned against the corridor wall.
“What did the old bastard say?”
“He’s going to kick me out if I don’t perform well in the next mission.”
5
“You’re shitting me.”
“I’d love to.”
“No way.”
They walked together. RX glued his glance to the cleanly-wept floor.
“Debt is squeezing my left ball and the low ranking my right. I should have stayed in cryo-sleep.”
“Don’t pull the complainer card, man. You got great potential. You just need to reignite that fire in your stomach.”
“Speaking of which, mine has the size of a super-massive black hole. Want to grab a bite?”
“Amen.”
He and D12 entered the hyperloop and flushed to the commons area. The place was packed with at least three hundred people. RX saw fellow pilots, scientists and even the US Corps personnel is frequenting between tables and the food printers. Thank tech Stryker Solutions™ increased their load-outs—no one had to stay in line. When it was RX’s turn, the food printer annoyed him with its infamous brand melody.
“Asap Yummy™—ammo for your tummy.”
RX flipped through the menu and drooled at the endless selection of artificial flavors. He forgot how many meals the printer offered—five hundred thousand and counting. D12’s hot breath brushed the back of his neck.
“Don’t stuff yourself, you want a clear stomach and enough energy for the mission.”
The gentle giant was right, as always. RX spoke to the printer.
“Print me something that’s adequate for an APEX pilot. And infuse it with vitamin D and 9volt with forty hour delay effects.”
The printer sang in his upbeat voice.
“Yes sir. That will be 49.99 credits.”
“Say what?”
“That will be 49.99 credits in total, sir.”
“I understood you the first time. Why in the world are you charging me?”
D12 spoke over his shoulder.
“Dude, didn’t you hear? Stryker now charges for every extra request that doesn’t directly involve our missions.”
“Eating doesn’t directly involve my mission? What do they expect—starving pilots in the cockpit?”
“Don’t blast me. Stick it to the investors, they came up with that shit.”
RX rolled his eyes. That was another downside of waking up from cryo-sleep: you always faced new corporate policies when slumbering your lightyears away.
49.99 for a healthy meal.
RX felt the urge to arm his beam and burn some investor’s liver. Frying their asses for free, together with the message You’re Welcome.
RX moaned for one last time before paying the bill. Debt or not, he needed the nutrition for the mission. If he operated at max performance and snapped his 50K, he could repay a chunk of his debt. Small investment for the future. The Asap Yummy machine offered him the freshly-printed meal. It dispensed a rich flavor into RX’s nostrils. His saliva flooded under his tongue. Even D12 grinned.
“Smells good. Worth every credit.”
“We’ll see,” RX said.
The beeping voice of the printer squeaked.
“Thanks for ordering. We pride ourselves with the best food-printing service in the whole carrier.”
“Big deal. Your brand has an exclusive deal with Stryker.”
D12 chuckled and ordered his meal. The two male units sat down at a half-empty table and hit their modified meals with the forks. RX cherished the first bite and looked at the personnel blitzing around the rows.
“Looks like half the carrier is in the commons.”
“You should check the amount of missions we get assigned. Thanks to the US Corps, we’re having a record streak.”
RX swallowed the chewed goodness.
“Would be nice if some of that profit would trickle down to us pilots. Having free food is a necessity for mission performance.”
D12 nodded.
“Shoot up the rankings, and it will be free.”
“You didn’t pay anything?”
D12 snacked on his meal with glee.
“Free ride for me.”
“You damn commie. What’s your current ranking?”
“I’m approaching the 80s.”
“Get out.”
“I’m serious.”
D12 synced his stats. RX almost choked on his artificial flavor balls.
“You son of a—“
“Don’t hate the player.”
“Don’t worry. Once I’m finished with the next mission, I’ll join your ride to rankings heaven.”
He fist-bumped with D12.
“Now that’s the warrior spirit.”
The two enjoyed their meals when the noise of the commons cracked down. D12’s eyes widened as his stare passed RX.
“Are you okay?”
“Dude, look.”
RX followed his peer’s gaze toward the common’s entrance. No wonder he was flabbergasted, the queen herself marched in.
The queen, also known as Z69, or Arrow Dynamics.
The one and only of the lonely.
Every single male in the commons craned their neck at her direction and gasped. Only the female units sighed, well, except for RX.
He moaned louder than usual.
“Don’t tell me you fall for her.”
D12 grinned but kept his piercing eyes on Arrow’s trajectory.
“The mind’s strong, but the meat is weak. It’s rare when skill and beauty meet.”
Beauty? RX looked at Arrow prancing through the table rows.
She did look stunning for the average chump. Legs longer than an Alterrian winter, almond-shaped eyes and hair as red as napalm.
“It’s all bio-engineered anyways. I bet she doesn’t carry an original cell in her body.”
“Who cares?
D12 stuttered like a five year old with a steel rod coiled around his tongue.
“Dude, she’s entering our lane.”
RX sank his fork into his steaming meal but didn’t bother to turn around. He focused on D12’s sweating face when a sharp, perfectly-pitched female voice sounded from behind.
“What’s up boys, how was the cryo?”
RX answered first but kept his back aimed at her.
“Brilliant. I had a nightmare."
"What about? Perma-failing the simulations?"
"Worse. I dreamt I was you.”
D12 gasped. The giant looked as if a pulse grenade detonated in his mouth. RX pretended to be obsessed about the vitamin cream on his plate. In the periphery of his right vision, he saw Arrow approaching his table. She stood one arm-length away.
; “What’s the matter, RX, did the cryo freeze your sense of civility?”
“That would imply you deserved civility.”
RX raised his head and locked eye contact with D12. The giant twitched his face, probably mimic speak for ‘say something smart’. RX lowered his gaze and dove into his dish. Arrow pushed authority into her voice.
“RX, look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
But he didn’t.
And the corporate law was on his side. Even though Arrow scored higher, she was the same rank in the chain of command, although she seemed to forget that.
Every single time.
“RX, do you listen?”
“My hearing amp is working, thank you very much. Now please let me indulge in my meal. I have to prepare for a major mission.”
RX still refused to look at her and chewed on his flavor balls in a melodramatic way. He felt Arrow’s loud breathing and D12 swallowing his spit, but he didn’t care.
He wouldn’t bow down.
Wouldn’t give in to the power play.
And it worked. Arrow Dynamics™ walked away with her entourage. The echo of her boots clanking on the ground faded with every step. The chatter of the people in the commons returned and everyone minded their own meals again. D12 remembered how to breathe again.
“Dude, what was that about?”
“What do you mean?”
D12 leaned into his ergo chair.
“Ah, come on. You acted like a burn victim.”
“That’s because she set up the fire.”
The giant stretched out his mouth. A smile edged into his thick lip corners.
“Don’t tell me you’re still mad at her because of the Alterra accident.”
RX wiped the residual cream from his lips.
“She hasn’t apologized for it, so I have no reason to be polite. The day she says ‘sorry’ will be the day I’m going to treat her like an equal.”
“Equal? Have you seen her ranking? She’s scoring well over the 80s.”
“That doesn’t give her the right to treat me like boot dirt.”
D12’s face contorted.
“Wha-at? All she said was ‘hi boys’.”
“It’s all about the attitude.”
D12 shook his head.
“I don’t get you, RX, I seriously don’t. Sometimes I think you come from a different dimension.”
“I just don’t like that More Amped Than You attitude. Have you noticed how everyone raises their nose once they rank over 80?”
“So what? It means they’re ace.”
“Ace up my ass. You don’t really believe that only your mission performance impacts the ranking?”
D12 licked the crumbs from his fork.
“Tell you what. If you ever go over 80, I give you permission to blow up your nose in my face.”
RX cheered up for once.
“Finally something to look forward to.”
6
38 hours till mission start. RX marched back through the corridors and realized how tightly-packed the carrier was. A labyrinth of steel and cables that made him look like an ant navigating a hive. And even though RX lived his whole life in close quarters, his body could never get used to it. A relentless choking sensation haunted him from time to time, even though the air filters worked just fine. Sometimes, when no one was around, he just paced the floors and climbed up and down the stairs for the hell of it. Just to get a feeling for how freedom tasted like. But this time, it was impossible. Personnel crammed the corridors and roared through the hyperloop tube system. RX stopped and watched the universe through the transparent armor. A few meters of hull were all that protected him from the vacuum and the space radiation.
Oh galaxy.
How could something so mesmerizing be so deadly?
Either way, he looked forward to blasting through the cosmos again.
It’s what he was born to do.
7
33 hours and 23 minutes till mission start. RX wanted to use every second with care. He hit the gym with D12 and worked the muscle-builder machines till he dropped a lake of salty sweat. The ever present AI unleashed her scoldings.
“Your loss in muscle mass is disturbing. Your sluggishness will negatively impact your physical assessment.”
RX paused and straightened up. It was always hard to argue with a machine that didn’t look human.
“Are you kidding me? I was in cryo-sleep. It’s your damn technology that caused the atrophy.”
“Excuses, RX, won’t bring you anywhere. I suggest to increase your input or you get a major point reduction.”
Arguing with the AI was useless.
“Fine, but don’t kill me in the process.”
“That would be detrimental to our company’s policy.”
“I’m glad you care.”
The AI increased the weight by twenty-five kilograms and caused RX to sweat twice as much. If it hadn’t been for the nanomed and the pain reduction stims, he’d cringe from the ache tearing through his arms. After one hundred push-ups, he peeked at D12 who seemed to lift three times as much. The giant grinned through the reps and seemed to enjoy the gym torture. He probably carried better amps. That berserker build wasn’t natural.
“What’s the obsession with my body?” D12 said with a smile.
“I just wondered how many hours in the gym I’d have to slave to reach your proportions.”
“623,” D12 said.
“And premium fleshbuilder amps mixed with a daily dose of corpusteroids.”
“Can’t afford that right now.”
“To each according to their ability,” D12 said with a vague smile.
RX tolerated a hundred more push-ups and lifts in the muscle-builder before staggering out the gym like a civ with both legs fragmented. D12 approached him from behind and patted his shoulder with the power of an uppercut.
“Leaving so soon?”
“My body’s breaking down already. And I can’t afford to pilot with my limbs aching left and right.”
“Dude, just take a couple of quickheals. I know a good brand.”
RX nodded but averted his glaze. D12 moved in closer.
“Don’t worry, I lend you some. I just ordered a maxi pack.”
He hugged him like big brother, which he kind of was, although they didn’t share genes. They left the gym and climbed into the hyperloop. The tube system rushed them to the premium quarters of Deck D which D12 called his new home. The door scanned the gentle giant’s metrics and welcomed him in.
“Thank you for entering,” the door said.
“The pleasure’s all mine.”
It had been ages since RX walked into D12’s place. The last time was three cryo-sleeps ago, when they both shared similar rankings and lived in the same quarters. The memory hurt. RX realized how much D12 leveled up, while he improved only marginally. And the walk into the giant’s new quarter didn’t ease the frustration. The view was mesmerizing.
Space-wise, it felt three times as big as his own shared quarters and resembled a star suite for politicians. RX noticed an ergo lounger, holo-projected walls, a personal food printer and a private arms locker. The room of an elite with accolades. D12 grinned.
“You can close your jaw now.”
“That’s all yours?”
“I worked my face off for these sweets.”
The room captured RX’s gaze. He walked toward the locker and stroked its slick surface.
“They let you own tier 1 firearms?”
“You can buy a license once you’re over 70. Check this out.”
He picked up the pulse blaster and pointed toward the barrel. D12’s name was embedded in sharp letters.
“Laser-burned into the baby. Sweet, eh? Too bad I can’t use bullets.”
RX tilted the gun and shivered. Perfect weight, perfect grip. The name on the barrel was the peak of pride. He pictured his own fantasy name shining on the firearm. It flushed his body with good feels. D12 noticed the fire in his eyes.
“If you give it your all during the next mission, you can buy your own license.”
“Yeah, right. Even if I finished with an A+ score, I’d be scraping at the 60s.”
“Then rock asses at the next mission as well. I had a co-pilot who once climbed over thirty levels in only two missions.”
“What happened to him?”
“Anti-Air missiles.”
Ouch.
“But don’t worry. He ignored commands during his last operation and went solo. Hubris burned his head.”
RX nodded while D12 opened his shelf box and took out a load of quickheals. He grabbed an injector, slid a capsule into its chamber and approached RX.
“Please pull up your sleeves.”
He sounded like the AI with her voice mangled by a subwoofer. RX stretched out his left arm and tapped the veins. D12 squeezed the trigger and injected the red liquid into RX’s forearm. He flinched but welcomed the immediate relief. Nanomed had improved drastically since his last cryo-sleep. Now if only scientists found a way to heal his debt wounds as well…
“32 hours left,” D12 said. “Let’s check out the sim and practice escort missions.”
“Do I have to pay for that as well?”
D12 cracked up with rebound laughter. RX swore the ground shook.
“No, that’s still free, at least according to my feed updates.”
D12 marched outside and RX followed him in slowmo. The prosperity of his buddy’s chamber still floated in his mind. The fine tech, the premium furniture and of course the private arms locker with the personalized tier 1 weapons left their mark. A wonderland compared to the cargo crap RX called his home in the lower decks.
“Are you coming?” D12 said.
“I want to live in a place like yours.”
“One day, you will.”
They took the hyperloop to the sim chambers and entered. A dozen pilots already connected to the simulation machines, moved arms and legs. D12 flipped open the menu and swiped through the options and scenario settings. RX paid only partial attention to his selection process. The gentle giant noticed.
“Your mind’s absent. What’s the matter?”
“You know, I can’t wrap my mind around the sum we all get. 50K for a simple convoy escort.”
“Ain’t my problem. If the pay’s good, I’m willing to protect bio-engineered ligers.”